Dulcie Carlyon: A novel. Volume 1 by James Grant - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

 

CHAPTER XIX.
 ELANDSBERGEN.

Next morning when the picquet was relieved young Sheldrake, who paid Hammersley's company in absence of the latter, who was soon expected with a strong draft from England, said to Florian—

'Look here, MacIan, I've made a stupid mistake. The company's money I have left among my heavier baggage in the fort beyond Elandsbergen, and I have got the Colonel's permission to send you back for it. This is just like me—I've a head, and so has a pin! The Quartermaster will lend you his horse, and you can have my spare revolver and ammunition. Have a cigar before you go,' he added, proffering his case, 'and look sharp after yourself and the money. There is a deuced unchancy lot in the quarter you are going back to. We don't advance from this till to-morrow, so you have plenty of time to be with us ere we cross the river, if you start at once.'

'Very good, sir,' replied Florian, as he saluted and went away to obtain the horse, the revolver, and to prepare for a duty which he intensely disliked, and almost doubted his power to carry out, as it took him rearward through a country of which he was ignorant, which was almost without roads, and where he would be single-handed, if not among savages, among those who were quite as bad, for in some of these districts, as in the Orange Free State and Boerland, there swarmed broken ruffians of every kind, many of them deserters; and, says an officer, 'so great, in fact, was the number of these undesirable specimens of our countrymen assembled in Harrysmith alone that night was truly made hideous with their howlings, respectable persons were afraid to leave their houses after nightfall, and the report of revolvers ceased to elicit surprise or curiosity. I have been in some of the most notorious camps and towns in the territories and mining districts of the United States, but can safely assert that I never felt more thankful than when I found my horse sufficiently rested here to continue my journey.' There were lions, too, in the wild plains, for some of our cavalry horses were devoured by them; the tiger-cat and the aarde-wolf also.

With a knowledge of all this Florian loaded his revolver, looked carefully to the bridle and stirrup leathers of his horse, received a note from Mr. Sheldrake to the officer commanding the little fort near the foot of the Drakensberg, and left the camp of No. 2 column on his solitary journey, steering his way by the natural features of the country so far as he could recall them after the advance of the 10th January, and watching carefully for the wheel tracks or other indications of a roadway leading in a westerly direction; and many of his comrades, including Bob Edgehill, watched him with interest and kindly anxiety till his white helmet disappeared as he descended into a long grassy donga, about a mile from Rorke's Drift.

The evening passed and the following day dawned—the important 12th—when Zululand was to be invaded at three points by the three columns of Lord Chelmsford; the advance party detailed from Colonel Glyn's brigade to reconnoitre the ground in front got under arms and began to move off, and Sheldrake and others began to feel somewhat uneasy, for there was still no appearance of the absent one.

* * * *

The country through which Florian rode was lonely, and farmhouses were few and many miles apart. Its natural features were undulating downs covered with tall waving grass, furrowed by deep, reedy water-courses; here and there were abrupt rocky eminences, and dense brushwood grew in the rugged kloofs and ravines.

The air was delightful, and in spite of his thoughts the blood coursed freely through his veins; his spirits rose, and, exhilarated by the pace at which his horse went, he could not help giving a loud 'Whoop!' now and then when a gnu, with its curved horns and white mane, or a hartebeest appeared on the upland slopes, or a baboon grinned at him from amid the bushes of a kloof.

Before him stretched miles of open and grassy veldt, and the flat-topped hills of the Drakensberg range closed the horizon. The vast stretch of plain, across which ever and anon swept herds of beautiful little antelopes, was covered with luxuriant grass, which seemed smooth as a billiard-table, and over it went the track, which he was always afraid of losing. But, if pleasant to look upon, the veldt was treacherous ground, for hidden by the grass were everywhere deep holes burrowed by the ant-bears, and into these his horse's forelegs sank ever and anon, to the peril of the animal and his rider too. Thus Florian was compelled to proceed at a canter with his reins loose, while he sat tight and prepared for swerving when his nag, which was a native horse, prepared to dodge an apparent hole, which they can do with wonderful sagacity.

So Florian was not sorry when he left the veldt behind him, and after a ride of about thirty miles saw the earthworks of the small fort at the foot of Drakensberg appear in front with a little Union Jack fluttering on a flagstaff.

This was about mid-day.

Anxious to return as soon as he could rest his horse, he lost no time in delivering Sheldrake's note to the officer in command, and with the key of a trunk indicated therein among his best uniform, and amid girls' photos, bundles of letters, old button bouquets, rare pipes, and an omnium-gatherum of various things, the bag was found, with the company's money, and delivered to Florian, who, after a two hours' halt, set out on his return journey; but he had not proceeded many miles when he found that his horse was utterly failing him, and, regretting that he had not remained at the post for the night, he resolved to spend it in the little town of Elandsbergen, towards which he bent his way, leading the now halting nag by the bridle.

Elandsbergen consisted of a few widely detached cottages studding both sides of a broad pathway, amid a vast expanse of veldt or prairie, with fragmentary attempts at cultivation here and there; and how the people lived seemed somewhat of a mystery. Rows of stunted oaks lined the street, if such it could be called, and through it flowed a rill of pure water, at which the poor nag drank thirstily.

Elandsbergen boasted of one hostelry, dignified by the title of the Royal Hotel, where 'civil entertainment for man and beast' was promised by the landlord, 'Josh Jarrett.' It was a somewhat substantial edifice of two storeys, built of baked brick, square in form, with a flat roof composed of strong lattice-work, covered with half-bricks and with clayey mortar to render it impervious to the torrents of the South African rainy season.

In some of the windows were glass panes; in others sheepskin with the wool off, which, in consequence of extreme tension, attains a certain transparency. Giving his horse to a Kaffir ostler, whose sole raiment was a waistcoat made of a sleeveless regimental tunic, Florian somewhat wearily entered the 'hotel,' the proprietor of which started and changed colour at the sight of his red coat, as well he might, for, though disguised by a bushy beard, sedulously cultivated, and a shock head of hair under his broad-leaved hat, he was one of the many deserters from our troops, already referred to, and, though apparently anxious to appear civil, was secretly a ruffian of the worst kind.

The room into which he ushered Florian was bare-walled, the furniture was of the plainest and rudest kind, and the floor was formed of cow-dung over wet clay, all kneaded, trodden, and hardened till it could be polished, a process learned from the Zulus in the construction of their kraals.

A fly-blown map of Cape Colony, a cheap portrait of Sir Bartle Frere, and the skull of an eland with its spiral horns were the only decorations of the apartment, and the literature of 'the day' was represented by three tattered copies of the Cape Argus, Natal Mercury, and the Boer Volksteem.

Josh Jarrett was dressed like a Boer, and in person was quite as dirty as a Boer; his loose cracker-trousers were girt by a broad belt with a square buckle, whereat hung a leopard-skin pouch and an ugly hunting-knife with a cross hilt. In the band of his broad hat were stuck a large meerschaum pipe and the tattered remnant of an ostrich feather.

The Kaffir ostler now came hurriedly in, and announced something in his own language to the landlord, who, turning abruptly to Florian, said—

'You are in something of a fix, Sergeant!'

'How—what do you mean?' demanded Florian.

'That your horse is dying.'

'Dying!'

'Yes, of the regular horse-sickness.'

Florian in no small anxiety and excitement hurried out to the stable, in which two other nags were stalled, and there he saw the poor animal he had ridden lying among the straw in strong convulsions, labouring under that curse of South Africa, the horse-sickness, a most mysterious disorder, which had suddenly attacked it.

The animal had looked sullen and dull all morning, and in the stable had been assailed by the distemper and its usual symptoms, heaving flanks, disturbed breathing, glassy eyes, and a projecting tongue tightly clenched between the teeth. Then came the convulsions, and he was dead in half an hour, and Florian found that he would probably have to travel afoot for more than twenty miles before he could rejoin the column on the morrow.

'Where have you come from, Sergeant?' asked Josh Jarrett, when they returned to the public room.

'The fort at the Drakensberg, last.'

'Taking French leave, eh?' said Jarrett, with a portentous wink and a brightening eye.

'Not at all!' replied Florian, indignantly.

'Fellows do so every day now in these short-service times.'

'I was going to the front, when my horse fell lame.'

'Belong to the Mounted Infantry?'

'The dismounted now, I think,' replied Florian. 'I should like to rest here for the night, and push on as best I can to-morrow; so what can I have for supper?'

Josh Jarrett paused a moment, as if he thought a sergeant's purse would not go far in the way of luxuries, and then replied:

'Rasher of bacon and eggs, or dried beef and a good glass of squareface or Cape smoke, which you please.'

'The first will do, and a glass of the squareface, which means Hollands, I suppose. Cape smoke is a disagreeable spirit,' replied Florian wearily, as he took off his helmet and seated himself in a large cane-bottomed chair.

'Won't you lay aside your revolver?' asked Jarrett.

'Thanks—well, no—I am used to it.'

'As you please,' said the other surlily, and summoning in a loud voice a female named 'Nan,' left the room.

The latter laid the table, brought in the frugal supper, with a case bottle of squareface, and, instead of leaving the room, seated herself near a window and entered into conversation, with what object Florian scarcely knew, but he disliked the circumstance, till he began to remember that she probably considered herself his equal.

When his hasty repast was over, taking a hint from a remark that he was weary, she withdrew, and then Florian began to consider the situation.

He was fully twenty miles from the regiment; a rough country, not to be traversed even by daylight, infested with wild animals, and many obnoxious things, such as puff-adders, perhaps Zulus, lay between; and unless Jarrett would accommodate him with a horse, which was very unlikely (he seemed such a sullen and forbidding fellow), he would have to travel the journey on foot, and begin betimes on the morrow as soon as dawn would enable him to see the track eastward.

He examined Sheldrake's handsome revolver and its ammunition, reloading the six chambers carefully. Then he thought of the company's money; and tempted, he knew not by what rash impulse unless it was mere boyish curiosity, he untied the red tape by which the paymaster had secured the mouth of the bag to have a peep at the gold.

He had never seen a hundred sovereigns before, and never before had so much money in his possession. Some of the glittering coins fell out on the clay floor; and as he gathered them up a sound made him look round, and from the window he saw a human face suddenly vanish outside, thus showing that some one had, hitherto unnoticed, been furtively watching him, and he strongly suspected it to be the woman Nan, prompted, perhaps, by idle curiosity, and in haste he concealed the gold.

He was the more convinced of the lurker being she when, soon after, she entered, retook her seat by the window, through which the evening sun was streaming now, and began to address him in a light and flippant manner, as if to get up a flirtation with him for ulterior purposes; but his suspicions were awakened now, and Florian was on his guard.

He perceived that she had made some alterations and improvements in her tawdry dress, and had hung in her ears a pair of large old-fashioned Dutch ear-rings shaped like small rams' horns of real gold.

She seemed to be about thirty years of age, and was not without personal attractions, though all bloom was past, and the expression of her face was marred by its being alternately leering, mocking, and—even in spite of herself—cruel. Yet her eyes were dark and sparkling. She wore a fringe of thick brown hair close down to them, concealing nearly all her forehead. Her mouth, if large, was handsome, but lascivious-looking, and Florian, whose barrack-room experience had somewhat 'opened his eyes,' thought—though he was not ungallant enough to say so—that her absence would be preferable to her company, which she seemed resolved to thrust upon him. But guests were doubtless scarce in these parts, and the 'Royal Hotel,' Elandsbergen, had probably not many visitors.

She asked him innumerable questions—his age, country, regiment, and so forth—and all in a wheedling coaxing way, toyed with his hair, and once attempted to seat herself on his knee; but he rose and repelled her, and then it was that the unmistakably cruel expression came flashing into her eyes.

'You are too young and too handsome to be killed and disembowelled by the big Zulus,' said she after a pause; 'they could eat a boy like you. Why don't you desert and go to the Diamond Fields?'

'Thank you; I would die rather than do that!'

'And so you serve the Queen, my dear?' she said sneeringly.

'Yes.'

'For what reason do you fight the poor Zulus?'

'Honour,' replied Florian curtly.

'I have read—I have some book-knowledge, you see—that when a Swiss officer was reproached by a French one that he fought for pay, and not like himself for honour, "So be it," replied the Swiss, "we each of us fight for that which he is most in need of."'

'I don't see the allusion in this instance: a soldier, I do my duty and obey orders.'

'Have a drop more of the squareface—you can't be so rude as to refuse a lady,' she continued, filling up a long glass, which she put to her lips, and then to those of Florian, who pretended to sip and then put the glass down.

He was at a loss to understand her and her advances. Vanity quite apart, he knew that he was a good-looking young fellow, and that his uniform 'set him off;' but he remembered the face at the window, and was on his guard against her in every way. Would she have acted thus with an officer? he thought; and in what relation did she stand to the truculent-looking landlord—wife, daughter, or sister? Probably none of them at all.

Suddenly her mood changed, or appeared to do so, and seating herself at a rickety old piano, which Florian had not noticed before, she, while eyeing him waggishly, proceeded to sing a once-popular flash song, long since forgotten in England, and probably taken out by some ancient settler, generations ago, to the Cape Colony:

'If I was a wife, and my dearest life
 Took it into his noddle to die,
 Ere I took the whim to be buried with him,
 I think I'd know very well why.

'If poignant my grief, I'd search for relief—
 Not sink with the weight of my care:
 A salve might be found, no doubt, above ground,
 And I think I know very well where.

'Another kind mate should give me what fate
 Would not from the former allow;
 With him I'd amuse the hours you abuse,
 And I think I'd know very well how.

''Tis true I'm a maid, and so't may be said
 No judge of the conjugal lot;
 Yet marriage, I ween, has a cure for the spleen,
 And I think I know very well what.'

This she sang with a skill and power that savoured of the music hall, and then tried her blandishments again to induce Florian to drink of the fiery squareface; but he resisted all her inducement to take 'just one little glass more.'

Why was she so anxious that he should imbibe that treacherous spirit, which he would have to pay for? And why did the landlord, who certainly seemed full of curiosity about him, leave him so entirely in her society?

Suddenly the voice of the latter was heard shouting, 'Nan, Nan!'

'That is Josh,' said she impatiently; 'bother him, what does he want now? Josh is getting old, and nothing improves by age.'

'Except brandy,' said Florian smiling, as he now hoped to be rid of her.

'Right; and squareface, perhaps. Have one glass more, dear, before I leave you.'

But he turned impatiently away, and she withdrew, closing a scene which caused Florian much suspicion and perplexity. He remembered to have read, that 'man destroys with the horns of a bull, or with paws like a bear; woman by nibbling like a mouse, or by embracing like a serpent.' And he was in toils here unseen as yet!

The light faded out beyond the dark ridges of the Drakensberg, and Florian requested to be shown to his sleeping-apartment, which was on the upper storey.

'You may hear a roaring lot here by-and-by,' said his host; 'but you are a soldier, and I dare say will sleep sound enough. You will be tired, too, after your ride.'

The man had now a sneaking and wicked look in his eyes, which avoided meeting those of Florian, and which the latter did not like, but there was no help for it then.

'You will call me early if I sleep too long,' said Florian, as Jarrett gave him a candle.

The hand of the latter shook as he did so—he had evidently been drinking heavily, and his yellow-balled eyes were bloodshot, and his voice thick, as he said:

'Good-night, Sergeant; you'll sleep sound enough,' and closed the door.

With a sigh almost of relief Florian found himself alone. He set down the sputtering candle, and turned to fasten the door. It was without a lock, and secured only by a latch, by which it could be opened from the outside as well as within.

On making this startling discovery, Florian's heart glowed with indignation and growing alarm! He felt himself trapped!